Stolen Shadows

Prologue

The air was thick with the smell of blood-salt from the ocean waves crashing against the port, a copper aftertaste to the breaths she took through her mask. Sweat dampened the fabric, the edges pulling at her skin, her breath in hot gasps. Strands of hair were slicked to her temples beneath the leather hood. Absentmindedly, she brushed them away, a streak of blood left behind. Raindrops slipped down her temples and beneath her chin, sneaking their way into her collar.

"I'll ask one more time," she told him. The rain and waves threatened to drown her calm tone, but every word struck true. "Where is he?"

The man trembled, the shaking of his head causing his body to rock back and forth. He kept looking up to where the rope was tied around his ankle, to the pulley latching him to the beam high above. The metal glinted in the dim lighting of the boat lanterns, the moon hiding behind the clouds. He tipped his head back, shaking the rain from his vision.

"I told you," he whimpered. "I don't know."

She smiled. He couldn't see it. After two swift punches, the man was sobbing. She caught his chin in her hand, squeezing as blood dripped into his eyes.

"You know," she whispered. "You know where he is. Now tell me-" She paused to tip his chin back, watching him cough on his blood. "Are you more afraid of him than you are of me?"

The man shuddered, crying, spitting blood. "He'll kill me."

"So will I."

Still he gave her nothing. She shook her head and let him go. "Fine," she sighed, pulling something from her jacket. "You leave me no choice."

Metal flashed. The man tried to scream as she struck him, but found he was drowning. Finally, when his face was beaten unrecognizable, he cried, "All right!"

She immediately stopped. "Yes?"

"Brooklyn," he whimpered. "Central and Jefferson."

She flashed a smile beneath her blood-soaked mask. "Thank you."

With a swipe of her sleeve, she wiped the brass knuckles and tucked them away. Glancing one last time at her victim, she turned towards the shadows.

"Wait!" he screamed after her. "Let me go!"

She looked back. "Don't worry. You have a few hours before you drown in your blood."

As she disappeared, he screamed.

She'd made it to the next alley when she heard it. Footsteps, light but unmistakable. She ducked sideways into a doorway, pressing herself against the wood. After a few moments, a flashlight beam clicked on. The carrier stepped past the doorway, unaware.

She was about to strike, but hesitated as the badge on her follower's waist flashed in the dim light. Another cop, she thought, and cursed to herself. She waited for him to leave, the rain blurring the flashlight to a hazy glow. The light disappeared, and she listened for the sound of footsteps in the rain. After a few moments of silence, she stepped out from her hiding place and continued on her way.

"Not another step," a voice commanded.

She froze, her head angled towards the voice.

"Hands where I can see them," the officer said. She said, she realized. It was another woman.

Very, very slowly, she turned. She lowered her head to block the flashlight beam, her hood and mask leaving none of her face visible.

"Hands," the officer ordered again.

She didn't respond. Her hands lifted towards her head. As she moved, a device dropped from her sleeve to the palm of her hand.

The officer crept closer, gun trained on her head. As she risked a glance upward, she took note of the officer's features in the backlit lighting from the street. Dark hair, deep brown skin, eyes that absorbed the light. Raindrops flecked off the curve of her jaw, the slope of her neck, and soaked the collar of her coat.

She didn't flinch as the officer pressed the gun barrel to her head. "You're coming with me," the woman said.

She smiled her hidden smile as her thumb activated the device. Behind the officer, a street lamp exploded, plunging them into darkness. She struck out with one hand, the flashlight falling to the pavement and flickering out.

By the time the flashlight clicked back on, she was already gone.